Hands on Experience
by deagh
Summary: It only takes a few minutes to become a father, but it takes a lot longer and is a lot more difficult to become a dad. Set in my Change of Plans AU. Teagan, Maric, Alistair, and Cailan adjust to Teagan's adoption of Alistair
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This piece is part of my "Change of Plans" AU, set shortly after "Change of Plans" itself. It is a series of letters between Bann Teagan and King Maric where Teagan discusses his new heir. This piece was inspired by my own foster parents, who really _were_ good to me when they didn't have to be. My foster dad has been gone for 6 years now, but it would have been his 81st birthday this week, so I have been thinking about him. Thanks, Mr. F, for taking in a kid who didn't know what having a dad was and treating her like one of your own. I miss you.**

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><p>17 Kingsway, 20 Dragon<p>

From: Bann Teagan of Rainesfere

To: His Royal Majesty Maric Theirin

Dear Maric,

I hope this missive finds you well. I am writing to tender my apologies for cancelling my visit to Denerim on such short notice. Something has come up that changed my plans. I seem to have acquired a son.

Now that I have your attention, I will fill you in on the details. No, I have not married while you were not looking, nor has a past indiscretion arrived with a bundle wrapped in swaddling clothes. I went to visit Eamon on my way to Denerim and circumstances forced me to take over guardianship of Eamon's ward Alistair. Alistair is slowly settling in at the manor house, although he has managed to disappear from under my nose on two separate occasions. Now I know what everyone means when they say that you can't turn your back on them for a second. Obviously he was found safe and sound both times, but he has already taken years off my life, and it has been less than a week.

Due to the nature of this life-changing event I find myself in, I will not be journeying to Denerim for some time. If your duties permit, perhaps you could visit Rainesfere. If you could bring Cailan that would be even better. I was quite looking forward to the chance to catch up with my brother-in-law and nephew.

Sincerely,

Teagan

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><p>19 Kingsway, 20 Dragon<p>

From: HRM Maric Theirin

To: Bann Teagan of Rainesfere

Teagan, you are lucky that you are several days journey away. I could strangle you for sending me a note like that with no further explanation. What in the Maker's name happened to make you take Alistair in? I have heard nothing from Eamon about this. I find myself wondering why you felt this necessary. You have never expressed the slightest interest in marrying or having children, so I can only assume that the circumstances were rather unique to cause this turn of events.

I could perhaps take a few days to visit Rainesfere, especially if I can manage to make it an educational trip for Cailan. A visit during the harvest so that Cailan can learn about the processes that bring the food to his table would be most useful. He is fifteen now and thinks he knows everything. I'm sure I was nothing like that when I was that age.

Please do let me know how you are getting on with your new ward, I am most eager to hear news.

Sincerely,

Maric

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><p>22 Kingsway, 20 Dragon<p>

From: Bann Teagan of Rainesfere

To: His Royal Majesty Maric Theirin

Maric,

It was not my intent to concern you, but I find myself a bit overwhelmed by this situation and not sure where to even begin. I thought I had some idea of what it was like to have a child, but nothing prepared me for hands-on experience of same. The first time he disappeared I was frantic. I even sent men down the roads out of Rainesfere, in case he had run away. He was eventually found asleep in my gelding Lang's loose box. Lang didn't seem to mind, thankfully. As it turns out, he went to sleep with the horses as that is the noise he is used to. Eamon had him working as a stable hand this past year, and he slept in the hayloft or, when it was colder, in the stalls with the horses. He's also informed me that Eamon occasionally took him to Denerim as he was one of the few boys who could be trusted to properly mind the dogs. It was most convenient for Alistair to sleep in the kennel with his charges, so that was the arrangement. The second time he disappeared was much the same. One of the housemaids found him in the attic curled up in a pile of old linens. He barely remembers sleeping in a bed.

The boy does not even know his letters, much less ciphering. There is so much to do to make him a fit heir for Rainesfere, but I think he has great potential. My entire staff loves him and is taking great pains to feed him at every opportunity. He is currently quite thin, but I expect that will change.

If you do manage to come to Rainesfere – and I think your idea of showing Cailan the harvest is a good one – then you can meet the boy. I think you will like him. He has a bit of a smart mouth, but he's never malicious about it, so I can't bring myself to discourage it.

Sincerely,

Teagan

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><p>25 Kingsway, 20 Dragon<p>

To: Bann Teagan of Rainesfere

From: HRM Maric Theirin

Teagan,

Thank you for giving me this news. I'm glad that Alistair is settling in with you and you are addressing the gaps in his education. I look forward to meeting him. Rest assured I will be having words with Eamon about the proper treatment of a ward. He has informed me that he will be in Denerim in Firstfall; we will speak then. I would prefer to discuss such things in person. As for Alistair's smart mouth, I wouldn't bother trying to correct it. You may have noticed I have a bit of a smart mouth, myself, and no amount of discouragement by my mother ever broke me of it. Probably made it worse, now that I think about it.

Speaking of in-person visits, it is my understanding that the harvest at Rainesfere is mainly orchards, so that would be middle Harvestmere or thereabouts? I have broached the subject with Cailan's tutors and they believe that Cailan would benefit from some practical experience of what it is like to be a farmer, and I concur. Perhaps one of your landholders would like some royal assistance picking apples? Preferably one who has weathered having a teenaged son and knows their tricks. He would also have to not be averse to having a few members of the Royal Guard accompany Cailan to the orchards. While Cailan is being educated we can spend some time catching up. We have not had a good conversation in far too long.

My steward can contact your steward to make the arrangements – Maker forbid I just pack a bag and take to the road. Loghain might burst a blood vessel, and we wouldn't want that.

Sincerely,

Maric


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So...I wasn't going to do more with this, but Maric and Teagan pulled the Puppy Eyes of Doom on me, so there will be some more of this. I can't tell you how much more, because I don't really know as yet, but I will at least write up the Royal Visit. Cailan might get to talk about his educational visit to Rainesfere - we're discussing it. Inspiration for Cailan the wise-arse 15-year-old comes from JayRain's lovely story "Sneaking", which you should read if you're interested in Cailan, because it's awesome. Mention of a certain golem doll inspired by MsBarrows' story "The Golem Doll", which you should also go read because it is also awesome. Links to both their profiles can be found in my favorite authors list.**

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><p>30 Kingsway, 20 Dragon<p>

To: His Royal Majesty Maric Theirin

From: Bann Teagan of Rainesfere

You know, I may have to start abbreviating your title as you do. It would save so much on ink. Of course, writing the above sentence completely offset any savings, so perhaps I am not as full of good ideas as I think I am.

I have heard from your steward and a Royal Visit from 15 to 20 Harvestmere would be most welcome. I was pleasantly surprised to read that your stay will be so extended; you made it sound like you would not be able to get away for more than a day or two. My housekeeper is having apoplexy at the thought of you coming on such short notice, but I have reassured her that you spent your formative years in much worse conditions than the manor house, so you do not stand on ceremony. I doubt she believes me, though, as I happen to know that the housemaids were sent upstairs to fetch the Orlesian tableware. Loghain will not be with you, will he? I fear he might smash my good plates.

I have spoken with one of my most senior landholders, Lord Fallon, and I think he will suit admirably for a tutor for Cailan. The man has six adult children, four boys and two girls, so I'm sure that he has encountered every situation that a teenager could dream up. His orchards are quite extensive, so even if Cailan has more stamina than Lord Fallon thinks he will – I'm informed Cailan's arms training will be of little to no use as it's an entirely different set of muscles - there will be more than enough to keep him occupied.

Alistair is coming along slowly but surely. I begin to think that I might be able to do this. He is learning quickly and settling into the routine of the manor house. He now sleeps in his bed more often than not, although I confess the main reason is that I have allowed one of my hounds – an old bitch who feels the cold most keenly these days – to share his room. She has become quite protective of him. He will be heartbroken when she passes, although it is my hope that bringing her in the house will delay the inevitable. She is in good health for a dog her age, so he might get a few good years out of her. Perhaps I am spoiling the boy, but he could do with a bit of that, after what has happened to him in the past few years.

Maric, I must warn you – he has received several talks from Eamon regarding his place, or rather, lack thereof. I have attempted to reassure him and have told him that my de facto adoption of him and naming him as my heir legitimizes him, but he received those lectures from Eamon at an early age. It will take a long time to undo that. He may be somewhat ambivalent about meeting the king because of this, so prepare yourself. He has not expressed any feelings to me on the subject, but for all that he can chatter like a magpie, he often manages to actually say very little about what he is thinking. He would have driven my sister 'round the bend with his chatter, although I think she would have loved him as much as I am coming to. He is difficult not to love, even if he exasperates me at times. I do not see how Eamon could have sent him to the stables, although I know there were whispers that the boy was his bastard, which must have greatly embarrassed him. I'm sure Isolde did not care for the whispers, either. I believe the current whispers are that he is mine. Of course, he could have been; I certainly have had my share of serving girls throw themselves at me during my visits to Redcliffe Castle.

At any rate, we shall endeavor to be good hosts, and look forward to seeing you in just over a fortnight time. I do have one small request, if you can manage it. Alistair is quite fond of cheese, it seems, and the more exotic they are the better he likes them. If you could perhaps have one of your staff procure some of the finer varieties of cheese and bring them with you I would be most grateful. Actually, making a gift of same to Alistair would likely go a long way towards winning his acceptance. He's also quite fond of figurines and the like. He treasures a golem doll that he says came from Eamon. Seems a bit odd to give him such an expensive gift and then send him to the stable, but I avow I understand little that my brother does these days.

Andraste's Pyre, I have gone on long enough in this missive. I will be seeing you in a fortnight, we can speak then.

Teagan

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><p>6 Harvestmere, 20 Dragon<p>

From: HRM King Maric Theirin

To: Bann Teagan of Rainesfere

Teagan,

I confess your first paragraph made me laugh out loud – it is so like something I myself would do. I quickly ceased my laughter at the rest of your letter.

I, too, wonder what Eamon's reasons are in this matter, and believe me, I intend to find out when he is in Denerim. We will speak more about this when I am at Rainesfere.

The arrangements you have made in regards to Cailan should do admirably. I look forward to meeting the man.

I will be most pleased to provide the boy with some fine cheese. From what you have said in a previous letter he could do with some more meat on him.

I must apologize for cutting this so short, especially after your lengthy letter. I was glad to read it, though – I'm glad you feel you can confide in me about such things. I am very glad the boy has found a home with you, Teagan. But now I must close this. In order to get away for as long as I am I am having to let Loghain work me like a plowhorse. Oh, in answer to your question; no, he's not coming. The Orlesian ceramics are safe.

I will see you in just over a sennight, assuming I don't get thrown from my horse and die in a ditch. By the by, Cailan is at least as good a rider as Rowan was, if not better. It's disgusting.

Maric


	3. Chapter 3

**My apologies for the length of time between updates of any of my stories. Real life, that sneaky bastard, carried me off to the Land of Working Late. Also, Lord of the Rings Online released a new expansion, so when I did get some free time I was headed down the road to Isengard. But Maric wanted to talk, so here we are. I will try to listen to them more often. And without further ado...**

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><p>"Hail, Teagan! I was not expecting you to meet me on the road!" called Maric as his party spotted Teagan and his guard captain waiting for him at the Rainesfere boundary line.<p>

Teagan smiled and kneed his horse to guide it alongside Maric's. "Oh come now, surely you did not expect me to let my king come to Rainesfere without coming to meet him, did you?" he said.

Maric scoffed. "You are family, Teagan. Besides, that's one of the reasons we're here, so that we can shake off the trappings of being royalty for a few days. Cailan, say hello to your uncle Teagan," he said, gesturing to the young man behind him.

Teagan was shocked to see how much Cailan had grown…in truth he was expecting a boy not much larger than Alistair, not this young man who looked to be nearly as tall as Maric himself, even if he still had the coltishness of youth about him.

"Cailan? Maker's Breath, boy, you have grown since I saw you last," Teagan exclaimed.

"I'm told people my age tend to do that, Uncle Teagan," Cailan said dryly, which made Teagan laugh.

"Ah, I see he doesn't just _look_ like you," Teagan said to Maric, which made Maric smile and shake his head.

"Oh no, he definitely got the Theirin mouth," Maric said with a fond smile at his son.

"Well, we could stand in the middle of the road talking about me like I'm not even here or perhaps we could proceed to Rainesfere?" Cailan said, which made Teagan snort.

"Oh yes, definitely got the mouth. Well, Ser Prince, how about you precede us? Your father and I have some catching up to do," Teagan said. Cailan rolled his eyes but nudged his horse forward. Two members of the Royal Guard moved to flank him.

"Well, now I know what Alistiar will look like in five years," Teagan said to Maric, _sotto voce_, once they were under way again.

"It is that pronounced, then?" Maric asked, although he did not sound terribly surprised.

"Oh yes. My decision not to bring him to Denerim was the right one. There is no mistaking it. If Isolde truly thought he was Eamon's by-blow she is more of a fool than I thought," Teagan said.

"I had thought that myself when I saw him last winter, although I thought perhaps I was seeing more of a resemblance than actually exists. You didn't bring him with you?" Maric asked, which made Teagan shake his head.

"No, I wanted your first meeting to be somewhere he feels safe. Maric…he has some anger towards you, and some fear. Eamon made it very clear to him that you did not want him," Teagan said, holding up his hand to forestall Maric's protest. "I know that's not how it was, but that is what he was told. As far as Alistair knew, you knew exactly what was happening to him and condoned it. I have told him that was not the case, but I do not think he completely believes me….and I cannot fault him for thinking so," Teagan said, which made Maric sigh.

"I suppose not. By the Maker, this is a mess," Maric said.

"Yes, it is, but the road is no place to discuss it. Come, let us go to Rainesfere so you and your men can get settled and shake off the dust of the road…and perhaps meet the new addition to the family," Teagan said, giving Maric an inquiring look as he did so. Maric easily interpreted the look and answered Teagan's unspoken question.

"Cailan knows…he has suspected for a time, ever since the visit to Redcliffe last year. A visit at which Eamon led me to believe the boy was living in the castle, I might add," Maric said. "Cailan saw him and suspected. He's very intelligent, which he must get from Rowan – it certainly could not have come from me. Cailan and I had quite the argument over it when I confirmed it for him, although we have since made our peace. He has come to terms with it…or so he says," Maric said.

"Well, that will make things easier. Come, let us rejoin the boy so he can stop straining to hear our conversation," Teagan said, which Maric answered with one of his infamous sardonic smiles. Teagan knew that smile well – he had begun to see it appear on Alistair's face now and again.

"I've arranged for you to spend three days with Lord Felton, Cailan," Teagan said as he and Maric rejoined Cailan near the head of the procession. Cailan raised an eyebrow, but simply waited for Teagan to continue.

"Lord Felton felt that one day was not enough time to give you a good overview of the farm's processes. You'll be spending time learning all the aspects of a fruit orchard, from the seedling nursery to the cider press," Teagan said, to which Maric nodded in approval. Cailan looked like he'd eaten something that disagreed with him, but simply inclined his head to indicate that he understood. Teagan really couldn't blame the boy for his seeming dread – he'd spent his time in Rainesfere's orchards, although he had been a grown man – when he'd taken over the governance of Rainesfere he'd decided to learn all he could about the processes of the demesne. He'd spent a full week on one of the farms, although it had been a vegetable farm, not an orchard. His back ached at the thought of the never ending rows of carrots and peas, even now.

"Will I be returning here in the evening or staying on the farm?" Cailan asked.

"That is up to you. Lord Felton has enough room to guest you and two guards and is prepared to do so. If you stay at the manor house you will probably have to get up at half-three to be at the orchard in time, whereas if you stay with Lord Felton you can sleep in until at least five," Teagan said, which made Cailan blanch.

"It will only be two nights, Cailan. You'll still have plenty of time to laze about at the manor house," Maric said, which made Teagan smile. Cailan just sighed, which made Teagan's smile widen. No one could sigh like a teenager.

"Right, I'll send one of the hands over with the message that he can expect you tomorrow evening, then," Teagan said. By this time they had arrived at the manor house. Alistair was not in evidence, but Teagan hadn't really expected him to be. He showed Maric and Cailan to the guest quarters and then went in search of Alistair. He found him in his room, playing with his golem doll.

"The king and the prince are here," Teagan said, which made Alistair look up at him with wide eyes.

"I don't want to go back," he finally said.

"Good, because you aren't going to go back. You're staying right here," Teagan answered. He was disheartened to see the skeptical look in the boy's eyes, but he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. In many ways the boy acted like the stray dogs had in the Marches….always fearful of being kicked, but hopeful for a treat or a pat on the head. His jaw tensed as he thought of the way Eamon had treated Alistair, but he took care to not let his irritation show in any way other than that, lest Alistair think that _he_ was the cause of Teagan's anger. He just had to be patient; eventually the boy would come to trust him.

"Do you want to come down to dinner? You can have a tray in your room if you'd prefer," Teagan said. He had decided he wasn't going to force the boy to see Maric. If he wanted to, he would, and if he did not, then he would not. Maric would just have to live with it.

Alistair considered that for a moment, then sighed. "Gaytha said if I said hello to the king and the prince and was good, then she would make an apple and cheese pie for me," he said, which made Teagan raise an eyebrow. He hadn't thought to bribe the boy, but apparently his housekeeper had. He'd had that apple and cheese pie – it was delicious – so he could see why Alistair was torn, and he said as much.

"Well, that is quite the treat, although if you really don't want to…" Teagan said, to which Alistair shook his head.

"No, I'll go. You promise I don't have to go back?" he asked.

"I promise. This is your home now," Teagan said, promising himself that one day Alistair would believe it. He would see to it.


	4. Chapter 4

_My apologies for the long delay between chapters. NaNoWriMo got me. I did finish, though. :)_

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><p>By the time Teagan brought Alistair downstairs to the solar to meet Maric and Cailan he knew what he was going to say. He could feel the tension in Alistair's frame as he brought the boy into the room with Maric and Cailan, and so he had decided that he was not going to push the boy. At all. "Maric, Cailan, this is Alistair. Alistair, this is my brother-in-law Maric and my nephew Cailan, which makes them your uncle and cousin, of sorts," Teagan said. Two pairs of blue eyes looked sharply at Teagan and then at each other. A look passed between them, then a slight nod. Teagan let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Maric and Cailan were going to cooperate.<p>

"Pleased to meet you, Your Majesty, Your Highness," Alistair said, extremely formally, which made Maric's mouth twist.

"Alistair, I'm sort of your uncle now, and Cailan is your...cousin…please, simply Maric and Cailan will do fine," Maric said.

"Arl Eamon said I was never, ever to call you by your given name, Your M…Ser…" Alistair said.

"Eamon said a lot of things to you, Alistair. I'm not terribly pleased with any of them right at the moment, especially since I didn't know about any of them until Teagan told me," Maric said. Alistair looked skeptical, but simply said "Yes, Ser."

"Teagan, your housekeeper came in and said that supper will be served in just under an hour, so you both might as well have a seat while we wait," Maric and Alistair seated themselves and then an awkward silence descended as the four of them stared at one another.

"Alistair, Cailan is going to be working in Lord Felton's orchards for the next few days, just as you did," Teagan said in an attempt to break the silence. This bit of news made Alistair look at Cailan with some sympathy.

"Lord Felton makes you work really hard," Alistair said.

"Does he, now?" Cailan asked.

"Yes, I thought being a stable boy was work. I picked so many apples…and then I ended up having to sort the apples and…well, I'm not sure what he'll make you do, since you're so much bigger than me, but I bet you'll be sore after. I sure was," Alistair said, then darted an apprehensive glance at Maric. Maric simply smiled at Alistair.

"Well, I thank you for that bit of information, Alistair. I wonder, is there anything else you can tell me to prepare me for the next few days?" Cailan asked.

Alistair looked over at Teagan, who was glad to encourage the boy. "Alistair, perhaps you could show Cailan to his room? He's not seen it yet, and it will give you a chance to tell him all of Lord Felton's secrets without you worrying that I'll hear them," Teagan said.

"Oh, yes, that's a good idea. Alistair, would you like to show me to my room? It will fill the time nicely until supper," Cailan asked.

"I can do that. Would you please follow me, Your Hi….Cailan," Alistair said. He bowed to both Teagan and Maric and then started out of the room, turning back to ensure that Cailan was following. After the two boys left Maric sagged into his chair and sighed.

"Well…Eamon has certainly trained him. Maker's Breath, I am going to give Eamon a piece of my mind at Wintersend. So, are we just going to pretend that he's not my son, then?" he asked.

"For the moment. And besides, he's not your son, he's mine, or he will be as soon as the paperwork naming him my heir is final. I believe it needs one more signature," Teagan said with a significant look at Maric.

"Yes, yes, I know. I'll sign it tomorrow," Maric said as he raked his hand through his hair. "I'd just like a chance to tell the boy that I never wanted him in the stable," Maric said.

"I do not think he is ready to hear that, Maric. As you said, Eamon has trained him, and trained him well. He is very conditioned to believe that you did not want him. I do love my brother, but the more I hear about what he told Alistair, the angrier I get. It's going to take me a long time to undo all of that. Let it lie for now," Teagan said.

"Well, you know him better than I…I will be guided by you in this," Maric reluctantly said.

"Good man. He seems willing enough to talk to Cailan. Perhaps Cailan can serve as an intermediary between the two of you," Teagan suggested.

"Perhaps," Maric said, and shook his head. "You tried to warn me. The boy has never even met me, at least not that he remembers, and Eamon…well, Eamon seems to be angered that I had a child with someone other than Rowan, or something. I could wish he hadn't punished Alistair for it, though," Maric said.

"Truthfully, I am not sure what Eamon is thinking, there. Rowan had been gone for some time when Alistair was conceived. I certainly do not think less of you for it," Teagan said, which made Maric look askance at Teagan for a moment. Teagan returned his look and then waved his hand in dismissal.

"Yes, I know about that, too. Rowan told me," he said, which made Maric raise his eyebrows.

"When?" he asked.

"That six months I spent with her, when she was bedridden? There wasn't much else to do but talk, Maric," Teagan said.

"Right. Did I ever thank you for spending all that time with her, Teagan? Maker knows you spent more time with her than I did," Maric said.

"Not in so many words, no, but I knew you were grateful for it. I was glad to. She was my sister. And besides, you were running Ferelden. You were busy."

"I could have made the time if I'd really wanted to," Maric said.

"Oh, that's easy for you to say now, but not so easy to do, then. And perhaps that is not even true. I tell you, I had a backlog here at Rainesfere when I returned, and I have a very capable steward. I shudder to imagine what would have happened to Ferelden if you'd dropped everything to sit vigil with Rowan. If Loghain had been there to help you…but he wasn't, and we both know why. She never blamed you for not spending more time with her than you did. It wasn't easy for me to watch her fade away – it had to have been so much harder for you, and for Cailan. And besides, you were spending that time with him...well, most of it," Teagan said.

"I suppose it is too much to ask that I have a secret or two?" Maric said.

"Well, I don't have the slightest notion who Alistair's mother is," Teagan said affably, then waved his hand in dismissal at Maric's frown.

"Nor do I need to know, but I have never believed that story that Eamon put about that the boy's mother was a serving girl who died in childbed. I am well aware that you did not, in fact, visit Redcliffe anywhere around the time you would have needed to be there to keep company with any of Eamon's serving girls. Eamon has always made sure to make me aware of any visits of yours. Plus there is the fact that I was visiting Redcliffe fairly frequently in those days, and I was an unmarried man in his early twenties who was fairly popular with the serving girls. Believe me, if any of them had turned up pregnant I would have been informed," Teagan said, which made Maric snort.

"I suppose so," Maric agreed, and then fell silent. Teagan had hoped he would say something more, but had certainly not expected it. Rowan had told him that Maric used to be much more open, but he had learned discretion "the hard way", as she had put it.

After a few moments of idle chat – mostly Maric catching Teagan up on Denerim gossip – Cailan and Alistair returned. Teagan was happy to see both boys seemed relaxed, so it appeared they had gotten along fine. Alistair was, however, obviously still wary of Maric.

"Father, what have you gotten me into?" Cailan asked. "Alistair tells me that Lord Felton is a veritable slave driver!" Cailan said, which made both Maric and Teagan smile.

"That is _not_ what I said!" Alistair protested. Teagan was alarmed for a moment, but Cailan corrected himself before Teagan could intervene.

"Yes, Alistair, you are correct – that's not what you said and I apologize for misquoting you. What you said was that Lord Felton worked you harder than the stable master at Redcliffe had ever done, and then _I_ said that he sounded like a Tevinter slave driver," Cailan said, which made Alistair nod in satisfaction.

"You know, Lord Felton told me that he wished he had a few more boys like you, Alistair. You put in a good day's work when you were there," Teagan said. Lord Felton had, in fact, said that the boy had worked harder than he'd ever expected him to – he'd gotten into some sort of competition with one of Felton's grandchildren as to who could sort apples the fastest, and apparently the boy had given his utmost effort. He'd lost, of course – all of Felton's children and grandchildren had worked the orchards from the time they could toddle, but he'd certainly tried.

"I look forward to this more and more every moment," Cailan said, which made Alistair snicker.

"He's ok, really. He let us rest more than the stable master used to, and there was plenty of water to drink, and we could eat all the apples we wanted. He said something about how all men are the work of the Maker's hands and it was up to him to make sure we didn't take any harm from working. I asked him about it and he said it was from the Chant, although I'd never heard that one. Arlessa Isolde quotes from the Chant a lot, although it's mostly the part about how magic is meant to serve man and never to rule over him and how all mages are cursed. I don't know about that, though. I mean, the Maker made the mages, too, right? And Housekeeper Gaytha says that it's mages that make the really _good_ poultices and how a mage saved her sister from dying when she cut her arm and it went septic, and why would they do that if they were cursed?" Alistair asked, then flushed and fell silent as he realized how much he'd been talking and that everyone in the room was now looking at him. Teagan smiled at him encouragingly – he was quite happy to see the boy get talkative around Maric and Cailan, for it meant that the boy was getting over his nervousness. Plus it showed Maric that the boy was indeed like him – Maker knew that Maric occasionally forgot his hard-won discretion and began to babble, much like Alistair just had. Teagan looked over at Maric and noted that the king certainly had noticed, for he was favoring Alistair with a rather enigmatic smile. Teagan promised himself to ask Maric about that smile later, but for now, one of the serving girls was standing at the doorway to the solar, signaling him that the meal was finally ready. Teagan smiled at her and nodded, which made her curtsey and leave the doorway.

"Gentlemen, supper is served," Teagan said, which made Alistair turn and smile gratefully at him, glad to no longer be the center of attention.

Dinner was a fairly quiet affair. Cailan and Maric had been traveling all day, so they were concentrating on consuming as much food as possible in as short a time as possible. Alistair had begun a growth spurt, Teagan thought, so he was also eating as much food as fast as he possibly could. Teagan was eating like a bird compared to the three of them, but he did not mind. He sipped his wine and watched the three of them – so alike. Oh, there were differences, to be sure. Cailan and Maric shared the same golden hair and blue eyes, whereas Alistair's hair was almost dun and his eyes were brown – courtesy of his unknown mother, Teagan imagined. Their faces, though…those were the same. If anyone were to see the three of them together it would be quite clear that Alistair was Maric's get….which meant that the boy would not be going to Denerim with Teagan anytime soon. Of course, Teagan did have a plan, if he was asked. He planned to say that since he was Cailan's uncle and Alistair was Cailan's cousin, of course there was a resemblance. It would even be the truth, as soon as Maric signed the adoption papers. No one who thought about it for more than a moment would be fooled, but he should be safe enough with the nobles most prone to gossiping. Thought was not a strong suit for many of them. He would have to watch himself among some of them, though – the banns and landholders especially. Teagan suspected that Lord Felton knew very well who Alistair was, or at least suspected, but was so loyal that he'd never speak of it.

The thought of Felton reminded him that Cailan would be traveling to Felton's holding the next day in order to further his practical education. Teagan smiled to himself at the thought - the boy had no idea what he was in for.

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><p><em>Why yes, we will be seeing Cailan getting hands on experience at the orchard. Fits in nicely with the title of the story, no? <em>


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Hello, it's been a while! Work has been insane, but the end is in sight. I think. In any case, I made some time to work on this piece. It's time for Cailan to fulfill his part of Maric's trip to Rainesfere and go learn about farming. Cailan here is heavily based on JayRain's Cailan from her fabulous story Sneaking, which you should go read if you haven't already. _

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><p>Cailan and his guards decided to leave their horses at the manor house's stables, as Lord Felton had limited space for horses. Cailan was not looking forward to the walk to the orchards – going by horseback was so much faster – but he had to admit it was more practical to walk, given the circumstances. Besides, if he had his horse with him, then he'd have to care for him, and if what Alistair said was true, he wouldn't have the energy for it.<p>

Cailan smiled at the thought of his half-brother…cousin…he reminded himself. They had all tacitly agreed that they were going to call Alistair Teagan's son, which made him Father's nephew by marriage. He liked the boy. They'd spent some time together today, talked a bit. Alistair did not seem to resent Cailan, which Cailan was glad of. They'd stuck to mostly pleasantries – talk of Alistair's dog, an old hunting hound who had apparently decided that Alistair was one of her puppies who needed looking after. Cailan had been a bit jealous of that. He had wanted a dog for a long time...but after Alistair had told him that he'd slept with the dogs when Uncle Eamon had come to visit Denerim...well, he'd stopped being jealous and stuck with wistful. He would have liked to have had a brother growing up, even a bastard half-brother, but the practical part of him could understand why his father had done what he'd done. Royal bastards were not always well regarded in Thedas. In Antiva, especially, the life expectancy of a royal bastard could be measured in months or days rather than in years. It was different in Ferelden, at least as far as noble bastards were concerned, but still.

He'd been angry at first – angry that his father had apparently conceived a child while he was off on his expedition to the Deep Roads – Cailan still remembered feeling lost and abandoned during the time that his father was gone – but he'd come to terms with it, he supposed. His mother had been gone for a few years by the time his father went to the Deep Roads, after all. Then he was angry that Father had sent the boy away rather than keeping him so that Cailan could have a brother. That had been the main point of his argument with his father about it, but Father had pointed out to him that Alistair probably would not have been allowed to be a brother to him – he would have been a pawn. As things stood now, he could stay in obscurity at Rainesfere. Once the adoption papers were final he would be removed from the succession and would simply be the Bann of Rainesfere one day. It didn't hurt that Teagan was Cailan's uncle and as such was motivated to ensure that Alistair did not have any royal ambitions.

Cailan looked up from his woolgathering to realize that they'd apparently arrived at Lord Felton's lands. He looked around in interest as they passed through the orchards, trees lined up as straight as soldiers in formation. He could see that many of them were still heavy with fruit, which made him wonder how many apples he would be expected to pick over the next few days. He wasn't expecting the work to be terribly hard – he was lifting a greatsword that was taller than he was, after all, how hard could picking apples be?

They arrived at Lord Felton's home – a sturdy-looking farmhouse that looked well maintained, but was definitely lived in. Several small children were playing some sort of game in the yard, and they stopped their antics and looked up as Cailan's group approached. One of the guardsmen held his hands out to the children, palms up, and the tallest of them, a young girl, approached.

"Hello, Ser, are you the prince?" she said to Cailan.

"That would be me," he said.

"Pleased to meet you, Your Highness," she said with a bobbing curtsey. "Grandfather said you should be here soon, and that he was to be notified as soon as you arrived. Just a moment, please," she said, and ran to one of the smaller boys, who looked in wonder at Cailan and then ran off into the house.

"It will be just a moment, Your Highness," the girl said as she returned to Cailan.

"Thank you. May I know your name?" he asked, which made her blush.

"Oh! I guess I didn't tell you, did I? My name is Celandine, Your Majesty," she said.

"I'm Cailan, and these are my guards Wulf and Derek," he said, indicating the two men in turn. Celandine curtseyed to both of them, and they inclined their heads in return.

Cailan was considering what he was going to say next to the girl when the door to the house opened and a grey-haired man – Lord Felton, he assumed – stepped out.

"Ah, Prince Cailan, welcome to my demesne. I hope I did not keep you waiting overlong," he said, bowing to Cailan. Cailan inclined his head in return and smiled.

Thank you, Lord Felton. Not long at all, and I was entertained by your granddaughter here," he said.

"Ah, yes, Celandine is good at that sort of thing. Run along, girl, and tell your mother that the prince is here," he said.

"Yes, Grandfather," she said, bobbing another curtsey at Cailan before running off, red hair flying like a banner as she did so.

"I saw the orchards on the way in, Ser. They look quite extensive," Cailan said, which made Lord Felton snort.

"Aye, that they are. We've not enough light left to see much, but if you've a mind, I can show you the cider press and some of the storehouses while your gear is settled," Felton said, to which Cailan inclined his head.

"That would be good. If we do it now, we won't have to do it tomorrow," he said.

Despite the fact that it was nearly sunset, the press was in full operation. Lord Felton explained that the press was running day and night at the moment in order to keep up with the harvest. The pressing shed was warmer than Cailan had expected, and smelled of fruit. He observed the operation, but did not truly understand it until Lord Felton began walking him through the process. Cailan had expected to have to pretend interest in the workings of the press, but once Lord Felton began to explain the process, he found it was no chore to pay attention. The man was truly passionate about what he did, and so when he spoke of it, Cailan was drawn in. He listened attentively as Felton talked about the process of making cider and apple brandy and watched with interest as the press operated. It seemed a mere blink of an eye between the time they'd entered the press and Lord Felton was escorting him out the other end of the building.

"Well, that's the cider press. Have ye supped?" Felton asked, to which Cailan and the guards nodded.

"We ate before we left the manor – Uncle Teagan said you kept early hours," Cailan said.

"Aye, that we do. I'll see you to your room. I warn ye, we're a simple farmhouse here," Felton said.

"Yes, Lord Felton, I'm not expecting the palace," Cailan said. In truth, as long as the bed was passable he felt he would be fine. He'd expected to be bored, but what he'd seen so far was quite interesting. Perhaps this would not be as bad as he feared.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Yes, that's right, two updates in a week! I put the holiday weekend to good use._

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><p>It was barely dawn when Felton's work crew, with the addition of Cailan, arrived at the orchard. Everyone went to work quickly all seemingly knowing their places. Even the children had a task – gathering the windfall apples. Cailan looked around, feeling distinctly out of place.<p>

"Right, so what am I to do, Ser?" Cailan asked Lord Felton

"I thought I'd have you start on apple picking. Grab a basket and a ladder and we'll get started, Boy," Felton said.

Cailan almost bristled at being called 'Boy' – he was the crown prince, after all, but he remembered that his father had said that he was to be treated like anyone else, so he let it pass. He went to the wagon and lifted the ladder and basket.

He observed the placement of the ladders on the other trees and tried to do the same with the tree that Felton had led him to. Felton observed the ladder critically and then adjusted it a bit, then nodded in satisfaction.

"All right Boy, now shimmy up that tree," he said. Cailan climbed into the tree and reached to pick some of the apples, but then paused. How was he to tell when the apples were ripe? Felton must have anticipated the reason for his hesitation, since that was the next thing he said.

"Now that you're up there, you want to pick the ripe ones. These are Pippins, so they'll be nearly all red, so if they're more than just a little green, don't bother with them. This tree hasn't been picked at all yet – see how the apples on the edge of the tree are redder than the ones near the trunk?" he asked. Cailan looked at the tree and nodded.

"The trees ripen from the outside in, ye see? So it's the ones near the edge you want to pick first. There, that's a good looking one. Grab it and don't pull - roll it a bit towards the branch. It should pop right off," Felton said. Cailan tried to do as he said and was rewarded when the apple snapped off. He contemplated it a moment and then went to put it in the basket he was holding.

"Nah, that's your first one, lad. Ye need to eat that one," Felton said, his normally dour face graced with a small smile.

"All right," Cailan said. He looked at the apple and polished it on his shirt, then took a big bite of it. It was fully ripe and juicy – he almost dribbled juice on his shirt, as a matter of fact. The taste of the tart apple filled his mouth – the apples he got at the palace certainly weren't like this! He devoured the rest of the apple, core and all, and then wiped his hands on his shirt.

"That was amazing," he said, smiling down at Lord Felton.

"Aye. Pick another and toss it down, Boy," Felton said. After he caught the apple that Cailan tossed to him he took a big bite. "Oh aye, good crop from this tree. All right, Boy. That's the basics. Now, fill your basket and when you're done, go dump your apples in the bin for the sorting. Water is over there in the bucket, and when you need to relieve yourself, don't piss on the apple trees, eh? That's what the bushes on the edge of the orchard are for. Ye got all that?" he asked.

"Pick apples, in the bin, water there, don't piss on the trees," Cailan repeated, which made Felton snort.

"Aye, that's the gist of it."

"What do I do when I'm done with this tree?"

"Move to the next one, Boy. After lunch ye can learn to sort," Felton said, to which Cailan nodded. He was outside, surrounded by greenery, and all he had to do was pick apples. This didn't seem that hard.

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><p>By midmorning, he was regretting that flippant thought. His arms ached. His back ached. His legs ached. And that little granddaughter of Felton's kept staring at him.<p>

"What?" he finally asked her, after dumping what must have been the thousandth load of apples into the sorting bin.

"You're sweating," she said.

"Well, yes, that's what people do when they're working hard," he said.

"But you're a prince," she said.

"And?" he asked. She wasn't sweating, he noticed. She was working just as hard as he was, at least in relation to her size. She and her siblings and cousins had long since picked every fallen apple from this section of orchard, and were now sorting them into the various types.

"Princes and princesses don't sweat in the stories. Are you sure you're a prince?" she asked, looking at him with large, green eyes.

Cailan sighed and willed himself not to snap at her. She was just a little girl, he thought to himself.

"Princes and kings are just people, you know. They sweat like everyone else does. You may have noticed that I've been off to the bushes a time or two, as well," Cailan said, unable to completely keep the annoyance from his tone. He was too tired to be a courtier, right now.

"Hmph. Princes in the stories are _nice_ to little girls, too," she said with a sniff.

"Well, little girls in the stories are _polite_, unlike some people I could name," Cailan said, and went to get a dipper of water before going back to picking apples. He was quite sure he'd never eat another apple again after this. He was never going to wistfully think about what it would be like to have siblings, either. He had always envied his friend Fergus his younger sister. Now he had other ideas. The little imp would not let him be. Even if she wasn't needling him with idiotic questions, she was staring at him. He could feel those green eyes on the back of his head. He looked over at his guards, Derek and Wulf, and was happy to see that the two of them looked tired, too. _Good, it wasn't just him_, he thought, savagely pulling an apple off the tree and dropping it into the basket.

When the midday meal was served Cailan was so grateful to sit down that he almost forgot to eat. He could have happily slept right there at the table. But his body had other ideas and almost before he knew it, his plate was empty and he was looking around for more food. Lady Myrtle, Lord Felton's wife, saw his empty plate and filled it again, giving him a fond smile.

"Don't overfeed the boy, Myrtle – he has to work this afternoon," Felton said, to which his wife scoffed.

"Oh please, Graham, he's a growing boy. He'll perish of hunger if he only eats one plate of food," she said with a pat to his head. Cailan smiled at her, willing to put up with almost any indignity if it meant more food. He had thought weapons training was hard.

After lunch and a rest – all too brief, in Cailan's opinion – it was time to resume the harvest for the afternoon. Cailan reported to Lord Felton to be instructed in what he was to do next. The man stood ready with four baskets of apples – three empty and one full.

"Next we have the sorting, aye?" he said, to which Cailan nodded. He understood the theory, at least.

"Best way to show ye is to just start with it," Felton said, and began sorting the apples. He kept a running commentary of why each apple was going into each bin, but the man was sorting almost too quickly for Cailan's eyes to follow, except when he stopped to show him an example or two of each type of apple. Some of his confusion must have shown on his face, since the man shook his head at him.

"Think of it this way. If it's pretty, put it in the market bin. If ye'd eat it, but not show it off, it goes into the cider bin. If ye'd have to be starving to eat it, put it in the feed bin, aye?" he said.

"That makes sense," Cailan said.

"Good lad. Now, no offense, Boy, but I'll have someone checking your work. Wouldn't do to have a feed apple get into the market bin, aye? One bad 'un will spoil the lot quick," he said.

"I understand, Ser," Cailan said.

"Celi, come here," Felton called out, and Cailan's heart sank. Not her…anyone but her.

"My granddaughter has a good eye," Felton said, then smiled at the little imp as she ran up.

"Yes, Grandfather?" she said.

"The prince here is going to sort apples this afternoon. I want you to sort with him and make sure he learns properly, aye?" Felton said.

Cailan swore the grin she gave him was positively evil, but she was all sweetness again when she turned to her grandfather.

"Yes, Grandfather, I'll be happy to help the prince," she said.

"Good girl. Be nice," he said, and mussed her hair before going back to take a turn at picking. Cailan stared after the man in wonder. The man was sixty summers if he was a day, and he didn't even look tired. He knew the man had been working all day long, too – he'd been watching. No idle landholder, this.

Cailan took his place at the sorting bin and began examining apples. Celandine stood next to him, balanced on an apple crate so that she could reach the bins, and watched him as she sorted. She almost didn't have to look at the apples, sorting more by feel than anything, he guessed. He wondered how long she'd been doing this.

"You're taking too long on each one," she hissed at him.

"This is my first day. Would you prefer I do it fast or do it right?" he hissed back.

"I'd rather you do both, because right now you're doing it slow _and_ wrong," she retorted, moving one of Cailan's sorted apples from the livestock bin to the press bin.

"I wouldn't eat that," he said.

"You would if you got hungry enough. It's not bruised enough to go into the feed bin," she said.

"What is bruised enough, then?" he asked.

"This one," she said, lifting one that was almost mouldy.

"Ick," he said, which made her smile at him.

"This one got missed, it's probably been on the ground a few days. Really good for chucking at someone's head, like maybe an annoying cousin," she said, with a conspiratorial grin. Cailan raised his eyebrows at the mercurial change of mood, but decided to just play along. She could be chucking the apple at _his_ head, after all.

"I don't have any cousins yet…well there's Alistair," Cailan said.

"He's your cousin?" Celandine asked.

"Yes, my mother, Queen Rowan, was Bann Teagan's sister," Cailan said.

"Oh! That explains it! You look alike, you know. Father says that people have been saying that he's Arl Eamon's bastard, but since the Bann adopted him, then he must be the Bann's bastard," Celandine said. Cailan was a bit surprised that she spoke so casually of the fact that Alistair was a bastard, but he imagined that her family spoke of it around her. He'd found out many things he probably wasn't supposed to know when he was that age, just by being quiet and staying out of the way.

"Well, Arl Eamon is my uncle as well, since he and Bann Teagan are brothers, so either way," he said.

"I guess so, but it seems silly for Bann Teagan to take in a bastard that isn't even his," she said. Cailan imagined she must be parroting something that one of her elders had said in her hearing, since she obviously wasn't old enough to understand what she meant.

"You're not sorting," she pointed out, which annoyed him all over again.

"Well, I'm not good enough at it to be able to talk and sort at the same time," Cailan said, which made Celandine roll her eyes and sigh.

"_I_ can", she said, which made him roll his eyes right back at her.

"Well _you_ have been doing this for years. This is my first day. Were you this fast on your first day?" he asked.

"I don't remember. I've been doing this since I was small," she admitted.

"Well, I haven't been, so I need to think about it," Cailan said, taking an apple and looking at it. He put it in the cider bin and then gave Celandine a challenging look. She nodded at him, which pleased him, and then annoyed him that he was pleased at the approval of a little girl. She really was good at this, though – she easily sorted three or four apples to each one that Cailan checked. He got faster as the afternoon went on, although he found he preferred the picking. It was more active than sitting and sorting. The sorting was no less tiring, though, just tiring in a different way. By the time midafternoon rolled around, he had a splitting headache, not the least because Celandine insisted on chattering at him. In spite of himself, he was actually learning things from the girl – whenever she corrected him she actually pointed out why she thought he had put an apple in the wrong bin, and he was trying to pay attention…because it really was humiliating having a nine year old who was better at something than you were.

Cailan was bleary-eyed and really never wanted to see another apple as long as he lived when he felt a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder.

"You did good work today, Boy, for a prince," Felton said. Cailan simply looked up at him and blinked.

"Tired, eh?" he said, to which Cailan nodded.

"Good. A man is supposed to be tired at the end of the day. Means he put in a good day's work. Let's go back to the house," Felton said.

Cailan stood and stretched, realizing how sore and stiff his shoulders had become. Celandine was disgustingly perky as she stood and gave her grandfather a hug.

"How did the prince do, Sweetling?" Felton asked her.

"I had to correct him a lot at first, but he caught on, Grandfather…eventually," she said, which made Felton laugh.

"Well, Little Miss, I thank you for helping me with him. Now run along and find your father and let him know I wish to speak with him," Felton said, to which she nodded and scampered off.

"By all rights she should be in the kitchen with her mother and grandmother, but she won't do it. She says that she'd much rather be out here," Felton said with a smile at her retreating form.

"Well, if I were her, I'd rather be out here too," Cailan said, shoulders popping as he stretched.

"Aye. Well, she'll either outgrow it, or she won't. 'Tis her mother who will inherit from me, after all, though she does keep home and hearth while my son-in-law is in the orchard. If Celi ends up as Lady one day, I'll be content," Felton said. Cailan simply nodded as he worked the kinks out of his neck and back. Why, oh why, had he thought this would be a holiday? Oh, right, because his father said so. He could hear him now.

"_We'll go see your Uncle Teagan and Alistair. You will just have to pick a few apples. Do you good to get outside more. It will be like a holiday!"_

Hmph.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Hey look, an update. Still not dead, though my lack of updates would indicate the opposite. Thanks for all of you who bear with my glacial updating pace, it's most appreciated, as are the views and reviesws._

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><p>The next day Cailan woke up before Wulf or Derek came to get him, probably because of the pain. He felt worse than he had when he'd first started weapons training a few years before. He knew that the only cure for the soreness was more of the same type of work, but he did not want to move. He knew he had to, though, so he stood and began doing all the stretches that Loghain had shown him. They worked surprisingly well, given that it was a different set of muscles. By the time he was done, he felt somewhat human again, so he was actually dressed by the time Wulf came for him. The guard noticed Cailan's stiffness and frowned.<p>

"Are you injured, Your Highness?" he asked.

"No, Wulf, just sore," he said.

"Ah, yes, so are we. Wouldn't have thought that picking apples would do that to a man, but there it is. Guess farming is as hard as being in the guard, aye? We got some horse liniment from the farrier, it does a good job. Derek is using it now – should be enough for you too," Wulf said.

"I would be most grateful for it," Cailan admitted.

After Wulf brought back the liniment and helped Cailan rub it into his neck and shoulders he felt even closer to human than he had, and as such he moved much more easily when he was going down to breakfast. He was still moving carefully, although if anyone noticed, they didn't say anything. He loaded his plate and sat down, his guards flanking him with their own loaded plates. Celandine and her parents arrived in the kitchen shortly after the three of them started eating.

"Good morning, Your Highness," said Felton's daughter and son-in-law, which made Cailan look up at them and smile.

"Please…for the moment, I am simply Cailan. Sit and eat – you'll notice my guards certainly don't feel the need to stand on ceremony. You shouldn't either," he said.

"Yes, Your Hi…Cailan," said the man. Cailan was drawing a blank when trying to recall his name. Celandine had referred to him several times the previous day, but she'd called him 'Father', of course. Well, no matter. Cailan would call him 'Ser', if he had to.

"What will I be doing today?" Cailan asked after he'd finished his meal.

"Grandfather said you'd be sore today, so he's going to go easy on you and let you tour the seedling nursery," Celandine said, which made her mother shush her.

"I apologize for her, Your Highness…she seldom thinks before she speaks," said Celandine's mother, whose name Cailan also could not remember. "Think nothing of it, My Lady," he said. "She's quite right. I am sore, and looking at the nursery would be welcome," he said with a smile, which she answered with one of her own.

"I remember when Bann Teagan did this – he was practically crippled after his first day," she said.

"Didn't stop you from flirting with the man," her husband said, though he looked fondly at his wife as he said it.

"Nonsense, I wasn't flirting, I was being nice," she said.

"Don't mind us, Your Highness," Felton's daughter said, to which Cailan simply smiled in response.

The nursery was interesting. Lord Felton explained the life cycle of the trees and how the saplings were trained and pruned to facilitate harvesting later. In addition, the nursery was a place where Felton and his family experimented to come up with better trees. They bred for disease and drought resistance and for fruit size, color, and taste. Cailan could not even fathom the patience that process took, since it took at least four or five years to see what kind of fruit a tree would produce.

"One would think that man couldn't do better than the Maker," Cailan mused when Felton's son had finished explaining the process. This got him a laugh.

"Ah, but the Maker seems to favor things that do a little bit of everything. It gives the group as a whole the best chance of surviving. As farmers, it's up to us to choose the best of what the Maker has provided," the man said. Cailan could see the sense in that, he supposed.

After the nursery, Cailan was taken to the beehives. He was surprised that Lord Felton kept bees, but he supposed that it was convenient to have the bees nearby to visit the flowers, and the honey was a lucrative source of income for the farm – Felton's wife sold the honey, along with eggs and milk and butter – on Market Day. Some of the honey was brewed into mead, as well,

In the afternoon Cailan went back to the orchards, although this time his task was to take the best of the sorted fruit and pack it into crates for shipment around Thedas. Celandine ended up 'helping' with this chore as well, since apparently it was important to pack the apples 'just so', or so she told him.

He finally started packing boxes to her satisfaction, so she mostly left him to it, although she chattered to him about apples for the entire day. She was still packing faster than he was, though, which made him wonder again how it was possible that a nine-year-old was better than he was at so many aspects of the harvest. He supposed she'd probably been helping with such things since she was a toddler. Cailan tried to imagine doing this kind of work when he was her age…and failed. He wondered if all farm children began working at such an early age…and then he realized that all her siblings and cousins were doing the same, to the limit of their ability. Even the youngest ones were doing things like carrying water to the harvesters. It truly opened his eyes to what life on a farm was like – producing food was a great deal of work. Most nobles probably did not do as much work in a week as the average peasant did in a day. It certainly gave him something to think about.

After Lord Felton called a halt to work for the evening Cailan had supper with Felton's family and then prepared to leave the farmhouse for the manor house. He took his leave from the family, solemly thanking each of them for assisting him and teaching him about a working farm. He saved Celandine for last. As exasperating as she was…well, he would miss her chatter. It was also nice that she really did treat him just like anyone else. It was nice to not be a prince for a while.

"You are a little imp, you know that?" he said to her.

"My da calls me that," she said.

"I'm not surprised. Annoying as you are, I learned a lot from you, little imp," he said.

"Me too. I learned that even a prince can get sweaty and stinky," she said, which made him laugh.

"I'll just take that to mean that a prince is a man, just like any other man, and we'll go with that," Cailan said.

"Will you ever come back to Rainesfere?" she asked.

"I don't know, but if you ever come to Denerim…come to the Palace. I'll be glad to see you, little imp," Cailan said.

"Thank you, Your Highness," she said, and gave him her best formal curtsey. He returned the gesture with an equally formal bow, though he could not help but smile as he did so.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Cailan was quite insistent that I share his report, as he worked quite hard on it.

* * *

><p><em>An Overview of the Workings of an Apple Orchard<em>

_Cailan Theirin_

_When a resident of Denerim eats an apple or drinks a cup of apple cider, he doesn't think about where the fruit comes from, it's simply there in the marketplace. In truth, it is a long process from orchard to market. _

_Apple production starts in the nursery with seedlings, which are pruned and trained into a shape that ensures maximum fruit production for the size of the tree. Replacements for the orchards are also grown in the nursery, for while apple trees can live for centuries, most have a productive life of 30-50 years, after which the trees are cut down and replaced. The forward-looking farmer also continually experiments with new varieties of tree to enhance disease resistance and fruit production. This process is a slow one, as it can take five years or more for apple trees to start bearing fruit. _

_Once trees are in the orchard and bearing, the fruiting cycle begins in the spring with flowering. Bees and other insects pollinate the flowers, which then become the young apples. Apple trees set more fruit than they can mature, so the smart grower thins the trees once the fruit has set. This process not only ensures the health of the tree, but also produces larger fruit. If this thinning is not done, then the tree will produce less in subsequent years, sometimes to the point that it only fruits every other year._

_Many people think that orchards produce their crop with little to no help from the grower. This is very much not the case. Throughout the year the apple grower must tend his trees, inspecting for disease and pests, pruning dead wood, and ensuring that his trees receive adequate water. Careful inspection and maintenance is essential for a good apple crop. _

_Once the trees are ready to harvest then the apples are picked. The grower's entire family is pressed into service to ensure that the apple crop is picked before windfall decreases the crop. Even windfall apples are used, though, either as cider or as animal feed. Nothing is wasted._

_Once the crop is harvested, then it is sorted for quality. The damaged fruit is used to feed livestock – most apple farmers keep pigs for this reason. Sound but lesser quality fruit is pressed into apple cider, which is sometimes allowed to turn to apple cider vinegar or processed into apple brandy. Apple cider and apple brandy are more easily stored than fresh apples, so a large portion of the fruit goes to this use. The medium quality fruit is also cooked and then preserved in glass jars for later use._

_The highest quality fruit – free of spots and bruising – is the fruit that is sold in the marketplaces of Denerim, Highever, Amaranthine, and other locations in Ferelden. Such fruit is often picked when it is not quite ripe so that it will not damage as easily when it travels to market. As such, the lesser quality fruit can often have a better taste than the better looking specimens._

_In conclusion, growing apples is hard work, as is the case with most farming endeavours. Trees take years to mature, and the grower is often at the mercy of the elements. A windstorm at the wrong time can decimate a crop, or a virulent disease can wipe out decades of work. The smartest growers do what they can to mitigate this by breeding disease resistant crops and having contingency plans – most growers do not solely grow tree fruit; they also grow other crops – but the apple grower is, like most farmers, somewhat at the mercy of the elements. Therefore, careful planning and thoughtfulness is the hallmark of the successful farmer, much like it is the hallmark of a successful bann, or a successful king._

* * *

><p>"Well, it would seem you learned something," Maric said as he finished reading Cailan's report on the apple orchard. He set the paper aside and smiled at his son.<p>

"Yes, Father," Cailan said, rolling his shoulders.

"Hard work, wasn't it?" Maric asked, then continued. "I am interested in this line at the end. You seem tho think that being a farmer and a king aren't all that different," Maric said, voice carefully neutral.

"Well...it seems that a kingdom and a farm are the same thing, just on a different scale. Lord Felton cares for his lands, you care for Ferelden's lands. Lord Felton makes sure his family and hands are fed and safe, you do the same for Ferelden. It's just a matter of size," Cailan said.

"Well, if you learned nothing else from this trip, I'm glad you learned that. Most kingdoms started out as smallholdings, you know. It's the farmer that manages his lands well that becomes a bann, and the best of them become arls, and so on. It's important to remember where we came from," Maric said, to which Cailan nodded.

"Come, let's go down to supper. Tell me, what did you and Alistair talk about today? I'm glad to see you are getting along, but you were in his room for well over an hour," Maric said.

"Mostly about how annoying little girls are," Cailan said.

"Ah yes, I remember when you were in that stage. Come, let's not keep your uncle and cousin waiting," Maric said.


End file.
